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«La vita comincia da qualche parte con il profumo della lavanda.» Partendo così da un ricordo ispirato dalla fragranza del dopobarba del padre, il maestro della nostalgia André Aciman esplora il concetto di memoria e l’esperienza della perdita in tutte le loro sfaccettature: dall’infanzia perduta ad Alessandria sotto l’abbagliante sole egiziano agli anni vissuti a Roma da ragazzino, dove adorava perdersi per i meravigliosi vicoli in acciottolato del centro; dalle visite al padre nella Parigi «collerica e piovosa di Baudelaire», in cui ha sempre sognato di vivere, agli studi universitari a Cambridge; dall’armonioso caos di Barcellona alla «caccia» agli scorci dei quadri di Monet a Bordighera. Un dedalo di impressioni, tra gli angoli sperduti di un’esistenza vissuta in esilio permanente prima di stabilirsi a Manhattan, nella speranza di riuscire finalmente a cogliere e fissare la propria identità, laddove invece, come in una fotografia, l’immagine vera è solo «un’infinita sovrapposizione di immagini instabili».
- ISBN: 8823507499
- Casa Editrice: Guanda
- Pagine: 270
- Data di uscita: 26-09-2013
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Oh, I can't. I'm so sorry, Mr. Aciman, but I just cannot sit with you right now. Your world is not mine, and you make absolutely no effort to welcome me to it. You must understand that I want nothing more than do let you guide me, but you don't want to do that. You want to tell me about how pleased
This collection of essays tiptoes along the line between memoir and diary, and you get the sense that you should read them very quietly, so as to respect the privacy of the writer who is trying to find himself on the page before you. The pieces reflect on the meaning of place to one who is always al Leggi tutto
from Intimacy: I was after something intimate and I learned to spot it in the first alley, in the first verse of a poem, on the first glance of a stranger. Great books, like great cities, always let us find things we think are only in us and couldn’t possibly belong elsewhere but that turn out to be Leggi tutto
On Monet: He is not even sure he’s not making it up. Which is also why he needs to paint it … What he was after hangs between the visible and the invisible, between the here and now and the seemingly elsewhere. This is Aciman’s project, his compulsion: to make material these wisps of feelings, impres Leggi tutto
Begin dit jaar las ik met veel plezier "Call me by your name" en "Enigma variations": twee fraaie romans over de pluriformiteit en intensiteit van liefde en verlangen, waarin het verlangen juist des te heviger wordt - en des te meer de beleving van de liefde verrijkt- naarmate het NIET wordt vervuld Leggi tutto
“We seldom ever see, or read, or love things as they in themselves really are, nor, for that matter, do we even know our impressions of them as they really are...what we reach for and what ultimately touches us is the radiance we’ve projected on things, not the things themselves” (“Intimacy” pg. 33) Leggi tutto
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